


Is it endearing, that you have to kneel to get on my level?

by whisperingtales



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, and a dash of romance, you don't have to read part 1 but i recommend you to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29784036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperingtales/pseuds/whisperingtales
Summary: Part 2 to 'You had me at "is it hot down there, so close to Hell?'< Meet me in the library at 6. Our spot. CG. >
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53





	Is it endearing, that you have to kneel to get on my level?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, there! I wasn’t planning on making this but I got a request to make a part 2 to ‘You had me at “is it hot down there, so close to Hell?”’ so here it is!
> 
> I got a little carried away with this one but hope you enjoy!

Two months had passed and Cardan still hadn’t pronounced word to her. It would normally be such a relief for her, but not ever since the library incident. Since she had seen in his eyes something akin to awe, something she had never witnessed him looking at anyone with. And the pained expression in his face after she’d pulled away had been assaulting her mind for the past weeks. Even if she could understand at some extent why he was avoiding her, she couldn’t believe he’d hold a grudge for an almost kiss. 

Monday morning was the worst of all: beginning of the week starting with a two hour long French literature history lesson, and text analysis course after that, in which she catastrophically failed. That day of all days, their literature professor had decided they would partner up for a presentation on a book of their choice. And she got paired up with no other than cold-shoulder-Cardan-Greenbriar. They were expected to start working on it the next day,  _ and  _ be work partners for the rest of the semester. She was royally screwed.

In the afternoon, she got a text from an unknown number that said < meet me in the library at 6. Our spot. CG. > How the asshole had gotten his hands on her number, she had no idea.

Five minutes before the esteemed hour, Jude gathered her lit books and laptop and headed to the library, where, of course, Cardan was already waiting for her. 

“Are you finally gonna deign talk to me or are we gonna sit in silence all day? Because, in that case, I have no time to waste.”

“So grumpy today,” he chuckled. No sign of heartbroken Cardan that day, it seemed.

She olimpically ignored his comment. “How do you want to do this?”

“Well. Considering you suck at analysing, I think you should leave the heavy stuff to me and you can sit there, find useful pictures, and look pretty.”

Jude omitted the fact that he thought she was pretty, and gave him a saccharine smile. “Don’t you ever get tired of being so kind and gentlemanly?”

“Not in the least,” he smiled back, as sourly as possible.

“You highlight and I research?” She offered.

“Fine,” he replied.

And that had been that. They’d spent the rest of the evening in silence, each absorbed in their work. The library closed its doors at eight thirty, so they had no choice other than leaving.

“We can continue at my place tomorrow.”

Her brows rose. “Your place?”

“Yes. I live in the east wing, level four, apartment one hundred sixty nine. See you at lunch.”

As he parted, she realized two things. One, he had told her what to do, which with Jude Duarte was a big no-no. And second, he wanted to ruin her lunch time as well. She scowled; it would be a miracle if they got to the end of the week without her killing him.

… 

For the past hour his free period allowed him to have, all he did was arrange his messy apartment to make a good impression on Jude. Obviously just to make clear to her that he was above her and for no other reason.

The ringing of the doorbell startled him as he was piling the books previously scattered all over his bedroom floor on the desk. Not that he was planning to take her to his room anyway. 

“Coming,” he yelled.

He opened the door to a very impatient brunette, who strode in before saying ‘hello’. She dropped her stuff on the coffee table and looked at him with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Nice apartment.”

“Thank you.”

They fell into an awkward silence, having a staring contest until both, at unison, said, “So…”

Jude continued, “I think we should switch.”

“Switch?” He repeated.

“You research, I highlight.”

“Maybe we should start with our analysis.”

She looked at him through her lashes. “You haven’t read the book yet?”

“Of course I have, but long ago. So I suggest we both sit in silence and read it again, stopping from time to time to discuss.”

Jude sighed deeply. “Alright.”

Both of them grabbed their borrowed copy of  The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and submerged in it for hours. Cardan had been stealing glances at Jude when she wasn’t looking and he could’ve sworn she was doing the same. One time, their eyes met, and colour rose to her cheeks.

Time passed and none of them had spoken a word so Cardan did the Devil’s work and interrupted the quiet.

“Are you finished already?”

“Yes. Are you?”

“Yes. Themes?”

She nodded. “Let’s brainstorm.”

“The importance of reputation. Which in the novel also reflects the importance of appearances, facades, and surfaces, that often hide a sordid underside. In many instances, Utterson adamantly wishes not only to preserve Jekyll’s reputation but also to preserve the appearance of order and decorum, even as he senses a vile truth lurking underneath. Go.”

“The Duality of Human Nature. Jekyll asserts that ‘man is not truly one, but truly two’, and he imagines the human soul as the battleground for an ‘angel’ and a ‘fiend’, each struggling for mastery. But his potion, which he hoped would separate and purify each element, succeeds only in bringing the dark side into being—Hyde emerges, but he has no angelic counterpart. Once unleashed, Hyde slowly takes over, until Jekyll ceases to exist. If man is half angel and half fiend, one wonders what happens to the ‘angel’ at the end of the novel.”

“Wonderful,” he said, typing it all down on his laptop. “Symbols?”

“Jekyll’s house and laboratory —the laboratory quite neatly symbolizes the corrupt and perverse Hyde. The respectable, prosperous looking main house symbolizes the respectable, upright Jekyll—, Hyde’s physical appearance —his physical ugliness and deformity symbolizes his moral hideousness and warped ethics—. Motifs?”

And on and on they went, discussing each theme, each character, and each writing technique. That was until Cardan’s stomach complained for food and he suggested they take a break.

“Crazy idea but what do we say we go to iHop? There’s one like fifteen minutes away from here.”

Jude’s facial expression was a very explicit interrogation mark. “iHop?”

“Come on, Duarte. Live a little,” he smiled sideways.

“But it’s one am.” She seemed to freeze at that. “Hold on, it’s one am?!” 

“Do you have something better to do?”

“No, but—”

He didn’t let her finish. She grabbed his keys and wallet with one hand and Jude’s own hand with his other. “Okay, let’s go”.

Jude protested all the way to the car, so Cardan turned up the music to muffle the sound of her complaints. He sensed Jude tense when he extended an arm over her seat to park, but paid it no mind. She was probably just disgusted, he guessed.

Once in, they chose a booth in one corner of the place. Jude was tapping her foot on the floor as she eyed the menu, when a waitress approached to take their order.

“I’ll take some New York Cheesecake Pancakes, and a chocolate shake.”

The woman wrote it on a notepad and addressed Jude. “You?”

“I’ll have a coffee and the Brioche French Toast, please.” 

“Perfect. I’ll bring it in a minute,” she said, and left.

“So? How do you think we’re doing?” Cardan asked.

“So far I’d say we even have time to make our own theories about the author and the book itself. And maybe even get a higher grade as well. I’ve got some nice templates we can use on the presentation.”

“Look at us! Who would’ve thought, Duarte and Greenbriar working wonders together?”

The waitress placed their plates on the table and retired after they thanked her.

“The faster we finish, the sooner we’ll stop spending time together.”

Cardan’s spirits crumbled a little at that, but then he remembered, “we still have to be partners for the rest of the semester.”

Jude groaned. He threw a mint leaf at her and she laughed. He’d never heard such a carefree, joyous sound. She seemed to realize he was staring because her laugh came to a halt, and then she cleared her throat, looked everywhere but at him.

Cardan took a bite of his pancakes, and Jude did the same with her food.

Minutes passed by in which they ate in silence or discussed a newfound topic to address about the book.

“You know,” Jude said after a while. “This hasn’t been half as bad as I thought it would be. You’re not all that awful.”

Cardan placed his hand over his heart in feigned astonishment. “A compliment from Jude Duarte!” She chuckled. “A compliment,  _ and  _ a smile! What did  _ I  _ do to deserve that?”

She sighed. “I’m sorry about the  _ incident. _ ”

“What incident?”

“In the library? A few months ago?”

His expression fell “Oh. That. No worries, it was nothing.”

Something like hurt flashed across her face.  _ Good _ , he thought.  _ She should suffer like I did. _

“Still. Things ended up even weirder than usual between us so…” she trailed off.

“Stay here. I’ll get the check.” 

Jude slumping further into her seat was all he saw before he strode to the counter. 

The ride back to Insmire University was angst-ridden to say the least: both of them looking ahead, not daring to steal glances at each other, no sound except for the wind coming through the windows.

When they arrived, Jude hurriedly got out of the car but slowed her pace when Cardan called for her.

“What?”

“Where’s your apartment?”

“No need to accompany me. I’m a big girl, I can go by myself.”

“I may not be the most chivalrous but I won’t let you walk alone to your dorm at past two in the morning. So, where do you live?”

She rolled her eyes. “Follow me.”

Once they were at their door, Jude hesitated. She unlocked it and turned around.

“Do you wanna come in?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I mean, if you’d like…” 

“Um, yeah, okay.”

She seemed to panic for a second, as if she hadn’t been expecting that answer.

… 

Jude was closer to ending global warming than to comprehending why on Earth had she invited Cardan Greenbriar to her dorm.

“Make yourself at home,” she said as she locked the door behind them and then dropped the keys onto the kitchen counter.

“You live alone?” He asked with genuine surprise.

“With my sister. But she’s away on Spring break.”

“Oh. Why didn’t  _ you  _ go?”

“Why didn’t you?”

The question hung in the air like a balloon doomed to explode. Cardan just shrugged. He gestured to the game console on the coffee table in front of the tv. 

“You play?”

“Yeah. Wanna try and defeat me?”

He snorted. “Try? I will  _ end  _ you, Duarte.”

They spent two hours playing dozens of Mario Kart rounds—in which Jude kicked Cardan’s ass each time, needless to say—, and though he asked for a rematch on Just Dance, Jude announced she was thoroughly exhausted and was going to bed. Until she looked at him and realized… 

“Uhh, you could sleep on the couch, I suppose. I mean, if you want to.”

“You didn’t think this through at all, did you?”

“Yeah, of course I did. I totally planned on going on an escapade with my archnemesis to iHop at one in the morning to then invite him over and play video games with him until sunrise.”

“I don’t have to stay. I can go back to my apartment…”

“I insist. Wait here, I’ll get some blankets and pillows.”

God, she was so mad at herself. How could she have been so stupid? Hanging out, laughing with Cardan, and then inviting him to her apartment? Pathetic. She wouldn’t let the disgusting butterflies that had made a home of her stomach whenever Cardan was around win. No, sir. He would sleep on the couch and leave in the morning.

After they turned her sofa into a bed —well, sort of—, she said, “I’ll be in the room on the left, just knock if you need anything. Is that comfortable enough?”

“Yes, it is. And thank you.”

…

  
  


Cardan checked his phone to see the time every ten minutes, to find out that only half of those had passed. He was tired, yes. But he couldn’t sleep. Not with the overwhelming awareness of being in Jude’s apartment, on her couch, covered with her blankets and using pillows with her scent still lingering on them. He kept tossing and turning until he was fed up and decided to go knock on Jude’s door and pester her.

But since she didn’t answer, he took the liberties of barging in, as silently as possible. His heart stopped in his chest at the sight of her sleeping. He would usually find it creepy, to stare at unconscious women. But she seemed so calm, with her characteristic frown relaxed, no anger at bay. He thought of her laugh. How deeply it had imprinted itself in his mind. He went to brush strands of hair off her face, but her eyes fluttered as she stirred.

He smiled softly and prompted himself to leave when he heard Jude mumble “stay”.

“Jude...” She grabbed his wrist, which he took as a ‘please’, and moved to make room for him on the bed.

…

When the morning came, Jude awoke with the strange sensation of having not slept alone. Which she could confirm by the perfume he’d left behind. Left behind because he wasn’t there. She wondered if he had taken her keys to get out of her apartment.

She padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water for her sandpaper dry throat, and found Cardan flipping pancakes and making orange juice.

“What are you doing.”

“Breakfast. Good morning to you too.”

“Yes.  _ Why  _ are you making breakfast?”

“Cause I’m hungry. Aren’t you hungry?”

Jude blinked. She sat on a stool at the bar and waited in silence until Cardan was finished and placed the food on the counter. Then she took a sip of her coffee.

“How did you know how I take my coffee?”

“I didn’t. I made it the way I drink it,” he smirked.

She changed the subject. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

“There are many things you don’t know about me, Duarte,” he said, and winked.

The dishwasher was momentaneously unavailable, so when they were finished with breakfast, they fell into a rhythm where Jude washed, and Cardan dried and put the mugs, dishes, and cutlery away.

Jude turned around and found Cardan mere inches away, towering over her, with an arm above her head, depositing a mug in a cabinet. Her breath halted. He slowly put his arm down and rested both hands on the counter, caging Jude in.

They stared into each other’s eyes as they closed the space between them.

“You’re not getting away from me this time.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she breathed against his mouth.

And then they were kissing. Finally, gloriously kissing. The kiss tasted of maple syrup and berries. It was heavenly, and she was drowning in it.

They spent minutes and minutes tangled in each other, kissing, cuddling, sharing sweet nothings in each other’s ear.

…

Jude and Cardan were in the library once again —they’d been there so often lately, the librarian was growing suspicious—, looking for a book on writing techniques. Jude spotted it in one of the lower shelves, and told Cardan to retrieve it since he was closer.

It was so low, he had to crouch down in one knee to reach it. Jude approached and snickered.

She looked at him through her lashes. “Tell me. Is it endearing, that you have to kneel to get on my level?”

He narrowed his eyes at Jude and pulled her down with him to get back at her. She yelped.

“My sweet nemesis, how deeply have I wished to have you at my mercy.”


End file.
